The Edge of Tomorrow
by StarStealer
Summary: Sequel to "Just to Love". Spot Conlon lost everything in the fire and this is the story of how he will get it all back with a little help from the Manhattan newsies. Chapter six posted and chapter 4 got fixed!
1. Spot Conlon is Dead

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S

Author's note: Hello! If you're reading this, this is my first re-written chapter of this story. A little bit of background info: I wrote this story back in '05 as a sequel to my other story Just to Love. Life got in the way and I fell off the wagon (so to speak). This story sat unfinished for five years. Now, I have come back and found I have the desire to finish this story and give it an ending. I also realized that for this to work I was going to have to attempt a re-write because my writing, along with myself, has matured quite visibly. Reading back through the old chapters left me wanting to fix many, many things. So here it is! Now as some people told me in prior reviews, this story is very dark as it starts out but I promise that in future chapters it will venture into lighter territory again. Also, please note that I will be doing this chapter-by-chapter as the original chapters were lost long ago and now only reside here on . So I apologize for the inconvenience this will probably cause and the distinct difference between this chapter and the next. I will however, do my best to crank these chapters out.

Well, that's all and I sincerely hope that the re-write makes this story more up to par with some of the better fics out there (I can only hope).

I suggest reading Just to Love first but if not, I've basically made this into sort of a re-cap chapter, so it'll help.

Disclaimer: Disney owns all rights and characters of the Newsies franchise.

Chapter One

Spot Conlon is Dead

Two months had passed since the dock-side lodging house of the Brooklyn newsboys had burned to the ground. Two months had passed since seventeen year old Spot Conlon had lost everything of value in life. His job, his home, his position as leader, his boys and worst of all, two people that had mattered the most to him. After the fire, Spot and a few others had retreated to Manhattan in an attempt to seek shelter. Many of his original gang had long since abandoned him with some joining the rival gang that had torched his territory and others just sort of trailing off to places unknown. For Spot, time had lost its meaning. The sun may as well have never set or risen for each day felt like the last and continued to feel like a gruesome reminder of the events that had transpired.

Spot lie still as stone in his small, lower bunk bed. The mattress sunk into the bed frame from his weight and the flimsy thin sheet of cotton that covered him was bunched down near his waist. His normally handsome face told the tale of tragic defeat. His skin, which was normally soft and smooth, now occasionally required a shave as slight stubble dotted his jaw line. His steel-blue eyes now seemed darker and heavy circles were etched beneath them. His hair remained unwashed most of the time and greasy. If truth be told, he didn't give a flying rat's ass about much anymore, let alone physical appearance.

As Spot lay there, he mentally struggled to string together the events that had led to his current situation in chronological order. For a year or so after the Pulitzer strike things had been a cake walk. Life had been good for him. Then something had happened that had set events into motion that would eventually lead to his fall from grace. A young girl named Reina had been brought to the Brooklyn lodging house by some of his boys. Back then it had been pretty normal for Spot to send his boys to scavenge empty houses for any valuables that may have been left behind. He had, however, never issued them orders to bring anyone back with them, but then again he had never said not to either. He remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on her and remembered not being particularly impressed. He'd certainly wooed and even bedded girls more attractive than the cold, dirty wreck she'd been when she'd first shown up.

Against his initial resignation and with some convincing from his partner, Kid, he'd taken her in. A move which he remembered dreading at the time because girls just weren't newsies, not when there were whorehouses aplenty and stages and waitressing jobs around. Selling papers was typically reserved for boys and if there _were_ girls doing it, they did it alone. However, to his surprise Reina had actually been able to hold her own and even outsell him once or twice. That once or twice had fueled his resentment towards her coupled with the fact that she had the annoying habit of often being right and one up-ing him in front of his boys. He had soon learned that Reina was un-like any girl he'd ever met in many ways. However, he had more often than not felt that he had wanted to kill her rather than sleep with her. This resentment had led him to making one of the (if not the worst) choices in his young life and he'd never since felt particularly good about it. His initial plan was to have Reina taken to the sanctuary for homeless kids where she'd be out of his hair but at least looked after. It had backfired because she had fallen into the grasp of a very evil person whom Spot had lost the one girl he'd ever loved to; Edward Vanderbelt.

Edward Vanderbelt was a liar, a monster and all around scumbag. Vanderbelt ran a place called "The Scarlett Room" but everyone knew it for what it really was; a bordello were girls were more often than not abducted to and forced to sell themselves. Vanderbelt specialized in what Spot had heard called, "Virgin cargo" – selling a girl's virginity to the highest bidder. It was what made him well off and made his bordello more popular than others that were home to used and older prostitutes. All highly illegal but Spot suspected that Vanderbelt had probably managed to pay off all the right people in money and flesh so that he could remain in business.

Vanderbelt had abducted the only girl that Spot had ever truly felt love for; Moira O'Malley. He had kidnapped her and forced her into being one of his whores and then he had killed her himself when she had attempted to escape. Spot had not found out until it had been far too late. He'd never even gotten to say, "Goodbye" to Moira. Since that incident, Spot had vowed that someday Vanderbelt would pay for his crimes and atrocities. When he had abducted Reina, Spot couldn't let her suffer Moira's fate. He had gone to save her and he remembered how she had pummeled him and slapped him. He'd deserved it and he had remembered that was the moment that his feelings toward Reina had changed somehow. Perhaps it was because she never cried even though he knew she'd been scared and hurt deeply by his betrayl. He found her ability to pull through the worst situations unique and endearing.

After the escape, Spot had felt something deep for Reina. He still had not been pleased with how easily she always managed to rile him up or make him look like a fool but he certainly didn't hate her any longer. They soon became close and Spot allowed his mind to drift to the night they had shared his top bunk in Brooklyn. He remembered the way they had talked and how he had opened up to her and she to him. He had even told her his real name, something that not even his right hand man, and best friend, Kid knew.

Then he had kissed her.

It had not been like any of the other kisses he'd shared with other girls. There was no lust behind it or sexual intent. It had been tender and timid and true and it had been a kiss he had only ever shared with Moira. He had not been entirely sure if he was in love with Reina but there _was_ something that had continued to draw him to her. Through it all they had become good friends and very close. That is why it hurt so much now, in the present. He had lost her and he was afraid the same despicable person was to blame and even more afraid that she now shared the same fate as Moira. Spot felt that he had failed both of them.

Vanderbelt had sought revenge upon Spot for stealing something that he felt had rightfully belonged to him. The mere thought of the man made Spot seethe with hatred. Vanderbelt had enlisted someone in Spot's gang to turn against him and he had used that information against Spot. He had used it to destroy everything Spot valued and he had taken away Reina as well.

Reina.

Spot winced as the mere thought of her name evoked a strong aching within. It was a feeling that he was not use to but it was there all the same. It was also accompanied with various other un-welcome feelings; hurt, anger, worry, frustration. He had no way of knowing if she or even Kid were alive.

"Time to rise and shine sleeping beauty!"

Spot glanced over to the voice that had interrupted his thoughts. In strolled a rather tall boy who, in the last couple of years, had really turned into more of a man. His brownish-red hair was pushed back but a few strands always managed to hang in his face. His facial features were fine and chiseled but he somehow managed to carry a sort of rugged air about him. Other newsies called him, "Cowboy" and only a select few, mainly authority figures, called him, "Francis Sullivan". Spot knew him as Jack Kelly or Jacky Boy, depending on his mood or the situation. Right _now_, his mood indicated that he be called "Needs to Get the Hell Out".

Spot groaned in protest and squeezed his eyelids shut as Jack threw aside the makeshift drapes that had covered the window dirty glass of a nearby window. Sunlight flooded the room and Spot grimaced, it was _not_ welcome. Jack stopped besides the tiny mattress and leaned over it, crossing both arms and resting them on the wood of the upper bunk. "Went without sleep again, didn't ya?" he asked and Spot recoiled as if he had exposed a dark secret. "I don't wanna sleep. To hell with sleeping," Spot said and pushed the top covers completely away and slowly sat up. He rubbed a single grimy hand over his face and licked his chapped lips.

"You know Spot, I don't wanna be the one to break this to you but you look like hell," Jack said while still eyeing Spot. "I know you don't wanna hear it but I've been coverin' your part of the rent for the last two months now. I know it sucks but you gotta pull together."

"Screw you Jack," Spot said and stood, heading towards the wash room. "Yeah, that's real nice Spot," Jack countered but Spot didn't detect anger in his voice. "Have you even looked in the mirror lately? Have you seen yourself?" Jack pressed. Spot only briefly glanced over his shoulder and continued into the wash room. When inside over the basin, he picked up a small pocket mirror and took a good hard look.

He didn't even recognize the face looking back at him.

For the moment, Jack was quiet and Spot dejectedly set the mirror down – he'd seen enough. "C'mon Spot," Jack started up again. "Everyone else is out workin' and you should be too. I think getting back to sellin' the papes will be good for ya," he pressed. Spot sighed and swallowed hard. He never liked to admit when he was wrong and rarely did but Jack had a point. He could either rot in bed or at least get out and try and pick the pieces up. "You know, the Spot Conlon I know doesn't give up," Jack added hopefully.

Spot stepped outside the washroom and gave Jack a very solemn look. "The Spot Conlon you know is dead," Spot said with a hard edge to his voice. Spot watched as Jack just gave him a stern and steady look and turned to walk from the room, clearly done with trying to convince Spot otherwise. "I'll be outside waitin'," he called back. Spot expected to feel a twinge of guilt for coming down so hard on Jack but nothing came to him. He glanced to the outside window only briefly and his last words he'd said now echoed in his mind but felt true to the core.

"_Spot Conlon is dead_."


	2. Help From an Angel

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S

Author's note: Chapter two of the re-write. Here it goes! Happy St. Patty's Day! I think this chapter will be appropriate.

Disclaimer: Disney owns the movie "Newsies" and all of its characters. I mean no infringement.

Chapter Two

Help From an Angel

The day had been very long for Spot. He had felt like everyone and everything was moving around him but that he remained standing still. Finally, it was late noon and near dusk. He had managed to sell a few papers but not even close to his entire stack, which in the end he had abandoned. He had considered going back to the lodging house but found the idea of social mingling still entirely unappealing. He didn't have anything to say to anyone anyhow.

He was now in part of Manhattan that he did not recognize. It seemed dark and seedy and stank of piss and stale air. Spot rested his arm against the cold, hard brick wall that was beside him and scanned his whereabouts. Nearby was a dingy, Irish pub that was alive with drunken murmurs from the crowd inside. A warm gold light beckoned to him from within and he found himself shuffling towards it. Once inside, he found that it wasn't packed but it wasn't dead either. Many sat hunched over at the bar with their backs to him and some took up occupancy in nearby booths. They were probably pub regulars. Spot noticed that no one seemed particularly phased by his entrance into the pub except for someone here and there that would give him a suspicious look or unwelcomed glance.

Spot pulled out a single, dark, wood chair from a filthy table and fell into it. Spot had enjoyed drinking on many occasions, though usually it was accompanied by friends, food and a good game of poker. To the best of his memory this had been the first time he'd ever drank out of self pity. If ever something had bothered him, the old Spot would have gone out and kicked the problem square in the ass and drank afterwards to celebrate. "But the old Spot is dead, remember?" his brain chided him and Spot slammed his fist down on the wet wood of the table. Apparently the occupant before him and doused the table in a good ample amount of ale.

"What do ya need?" a gruff voice answered. Spot glanced briefly at the waitress who had arrived to assist him and he grimaced. She looked like she was in her late forties but even for that age demographic she looked rough and worn. Her frizzled, curly hair was a sun bleached blonde mess that looked like the color had been washed clean away. Her eyes sagged at her eyelids and her cheeks seemed to hang off her bony face. She wore a bright, whore-ish color of lipstick that looked just out of place and wrong upon her pale skin. "It's okay, after about an hour I won't even mind having to look at your face either," Spot thought sourly. "Give me a pint of your darkest ale, the darker and stronger the better," Spot said and slapped down ten cents on the table. The waitress didn't even bat an eyelash as she snatched up the money.

***

"Your mother still enjoyed my company last night!!" Spot yelled and dove at a rather rotund, short and squat man who was red in the face and looked as though he were about to strangle the young man. Spot laughed and struggled against the burly man who was presently trying to restrain him by locking both arms around his elbows and pulling his arms back. Spot still had some usage of his forearms and managed to snatch a mug from a nearby table and sling it at the angry fellow. "Let him go Flan! Let Murray teach that young pup a lesson for barking his jowls off," a friend of the short portly man bellowed.

"Not in me pub ya don't! Neither one of ya!" the man restraining Spot countered and began to drag Spot towards the pub's exit. "Once he's outside he's _MINE_!" Murray roared and his nostrils flared in drunken anger. "Wouldn't be a fair fight when all ya gotta do is sit on me!" Spot snapped and began to snort like a pig in order to taunt Murray.

The next thing Spot knew he was tripping over himself and eventually met the cold, hard gritty ground of the street outside. He allowed his cheek to rest against the rough ground as white hot pain coursed through his jaw. It wasn't as bad a feeling as it could've been thanks to the alcohol but he wagered that he'd definitely be feeling it in the morning. Suddenly there was a ruckus.

"You know better, now I'll ask you to stay outta this!" the familiar voice of Flan, the bartender, warned sternly.

"You tend to Murray and his pals. We don't need the cops showing up here three times in one week," a surprisingly sweet voice responded.

There was no argument met with that statement.

Spot placed both palms down on the hard ground and felt small pieces of gravel cling to his skin. He struggled to push himself up and was only slightly surprised to feel two hands slip under his arms and assist him. With the pleasant buzz of alcohol coating his senses he felt like he was flying for a brief moment. Once he was back up on his feet it took his eyes only but a moment to come into focus after meeting the dark of the street outside. He raised both eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

The person who had helped him up was a young girl around his age or perhaps older, give or take a year. She wore an ordinary faded blue barmaid's dress which was covered up in front by a rather dirty apron. The apron had various stains set in that Spot didn't care to know about. He looked at her face which was round without being chubby. Her skin was so pale it seemed to glow white. Around her lovely face hung ribbons of dark brown hair which was so dark that it hinged upon being black. Her eyes were a pale blue that Spot found absolutely striking in his drunken manner. They reminded him of a reflective mirror. He smiled a crookedly drunk smile and leaned into her. "You're not _her_ but I could picture you naked," he slurred and leaned in to kiss her neck. The girl rolled her eyes and hiked him up with her arm as he began to slump again. "You're drunk," she said softly while stating the obvious.

"Yeah and _you're_ pretty, does this whole conversation have a point?" Spot asked, still ogling her. The girl smiled warmly at him and Spot grinned. "She wants me," he thought drunkenly.

"I won't be bedding you I'm afraid, at least not in the way you're thinking good sir," she spoke as she began to drag him along with her as she walked. It was quite a battle to not have his feet stumble into hers as they walked. Thankfully, they didn't have to walk very far until they came to the side of a building with a tall black door.

"'Good _SIR_'?!" Spot repeated with a snort. "I'm not a _sir_. I'm not even a leader, I'm…" he hesitated and hung his head, giving off a solid belch. "I'm not anything," he finished. The girl made a slight face at the smell but began to dig around with her free hand in the pocket of her apron. She soon produced a small key from her apron and unlocked the door in front of them. "Oh come now," she encouraged and lugged Spot through the doorway. "We gotta climb some stairs," she warned softly though she already expected to be lugging him up most of the way.

Minutes later they had made it to the top and the young lady knocked promptly on yet another door and then waited.

"Do you feel that you're going to be sick?" she asked Spot, trying to be prepared for anything.

"I feel…" he considered the question then laughed and hung his head again. "I feel drunk," he answered truthfully and the girl shook her head and smiled but it was a smile that was not without pity.

It was then that the door opened to reveal a small upstairs apartment. Spot looked inside and saw a small mattress which was made up in the central living room. Also spread out around the apartment was some furniture and some small knick knacks. It was mostly bare and the cream-yellow wallpaper was peeling at the top. "Certainly ain't the Ritz," Spot thought before being helped inside.

"You _are_ direct aren't ya?" Spot asked with a mischievous smile. He had aimed his comment at the young girl but she seemed completely unaware he'd even spoken.

"Ashlyn Rose, not _another_ one! _What_ have I told you?!"

Both Ashlyn and Spot looked simultaneously at the only other doorway in the small apartment. Out stormed a woman who looked quite similar to Ashlyn except clearly quite a bit older. Gray streaked her hair which was nearly identical in style to her daughter's. At the present moment she looked quite angry but her facial features were kind and matronly.

"Relax mom he's not a murderer or thief or any other kind of lowlife. He's just a poor soul," Ashlyn said, not really phrasing the statement as an argument but rather a fact. "And how would you happen to know that?" her mother demanded while crossing her arms in stern disapproval. "I just know," Ashlyn said as she ushered Spot over to the mattress and forced him to sit down. Spot made a grab for her and missed as the mom pulled her daughter out of his reach. "Mother!" Ashlyn yelled.

"Ashlyn Rose you have a great deal yet to learn about the ways of the world and especially young," she cast a mean glare in Spot's direction, "_Drunk _men!"

Ashlyn pushed her mother's protective arms away and turned to face her. "Mom, _please_ just trust me. We go through this every time. I wouldn't be bringing someone home if I was not _absolutely_ sure about their character. I just know he's not a bad guy," she said while gesturing with a single hand to Spot. The older woman looked from her daughter then to Spot and then back to her daughter and her resolve crumbled. "You sound like your father. Fine!" she snapped and turned to head back towards the other room but suddenly turned on her daughter. "But I'm not going to feel better until he takes some medicine," she insister and Ashlyn just nodded in agreement.

"I'll get some tea going," Ashlyn said and turned toward the tiny kitchen before Spot's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "Hey! I never have and ain't gunna drink…_tea_," Spot said and let the word roll off his tongue like it tasted bad. Ashlyn tilted her head and sat beside Spot and placed both arms upon his shoulders and gently pushed him down. "What are you- oh. I get it," Spot added and his arm snaked around Ashlyn's waist in attempt to pull her on top of him. Ashlyn pushed back and peeled his hands from her body. "No, nope, that's going to happen," Ashlyn confirmed and Spot furrowed his brow. "Then what the hell!?" he demanded. Ashlyn's mother soon re-emerged and handed Ashlyn a small brown bottle with a spoon. "See that he takes that," she demanded and gave Spot a final dirty look before departing back into the other room. She was not happy at all with her daughter's habit of taking in drunken vagrants to sleep off their over consumption of ale for the night.

"She hates me," Spot pointed out while finally giving in and laying down on the mattress.

"She doesn't _hate_ you, she worries about me," Ashlyn said with a fond smile.

"Yeah," Spot said and looked away. He had really never known what it was like to have a mother looking out for you. It didn't make him particularly sad but it did make him uncomfortable even while feeling happily inebriated.

"You're welcome to stay here tonight. You'd have a warm bed and a safe place," Ashlyn soothed and grabbed a nearby wool blanket and tossed it over his body. He wasn't sure how it had happened but suddenly his eyes felt like each had a ten pound weight attached. It was as though the bed had poisoned him with drowsiness.

"Why, why're you doin' this?" Spot asked her while lingering somewhere between consciousness and sleep. Ashlyn smiled sweetly and shrugged. "I just get a feeling about certain people. Like some people just really need a hand to help them out. I think that if more people were willing to help others it might make things better for everyone," she answered truthfully. Spot snorted and brought his arms up to rest behind his head. "You've just gotten lucky. Wait until someone screws you."

"Did someone screw you…?" Ashlyn countered back.

"Yeah, they did," Spot said, losing his jovial mood that the over abundance of ale had provided.

"Is that why you were at the pub tonight?" she asked while being careful to choose her words wisely and keep her voice calm and even. Spot nodded weakly.

"You're hurting. Not physically but inside here," she said while touching a hand to her own heart.

"You ask a lot of questions Angelic," Spot said, messing up her name. Ashlyn smiled and looked down, not bothering to correct him. She continued, "That wasn't a question. It was the truth, wasn't it?"

Spot narrowed his eyes and the familiar memories that he had been trying to douse with ale suddenly came flooding back and replayed over again in his mind. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. He was entirely too drunk and tired to try and put a fight against Ashlyn's questioning and so he gave.

"I use to be leader of the Brooklyn newsboys. I use to have a best friend and I use to have," he paused but then let the words tumble out of his mouth. "I lost someone I cared about."

Spot proceeded then to go into the story of how he had become leader of Brooklyn, the strike and then Reina's arrival and the events that had followed. Everything just flowed freely from him like a wild, rushing river of truth. He didn't even think twice that he was rambling on to a girl he'd only known for about an hour or so. Ashlyn, on her behalf, had listened intently and never interrupted him. It was only until a minute of full silence passed between them did she finally speak.

"So, you don't know if Reina or Kid are alive?" she asked softly and Spot closed his eyes, nodding in response.

"That's the real problem, isn't it? The rest is just salt in the wound," she said and Spot said nothing to contradict the statement.

"Did you love her? Reina?" Ashlyn asked innocently enough. Spot swallowed hard. He hadn't felt sick before but he did now. However, still being drunk he allowed the truth to keep flowing. "Yes."

Another silence followed after that. Spot could hear nothing outside the small apartment except the occasional slight noise from a drunken passerby. "What were you doing at that place Angelic?" Spot asked. "My father, the guy who was holding you back? He owns that pub. It's our family's lifeblood. I work there cleaning dishes and helping with the upkeep."

"You're a busboy," Spot observed but quickly corrected himself, "Except your not a boy." This produced a whispered laughed from Ashlyn but she soon fell serious and looked to Spot's eyes. "You need to pick yourself up and find them Spot."

Spot stayed quiet. Ashlyn took this as a cue to continue. "You will find them. I just know it and I've never doubted my gut instinct. I know you'll find them," she confirmed and quietly stood. "There's some medicine to help you sleep by the side of the bed. It will also help clear your head. Take one spoonful and you'll get the best night's sleep you've ever had," Ashlyn said while stopping in the doorway to the bedroom that her mother had disappeared to. Spot remained silent.

"Goodnight Spot," Ashlyn said softly and disappeared into the bedroom. The door shut behind her with a soft click.

Spot was still feeling the drunken pleasant feeling that accompanied alcohol consumption but his mood didn't feel quite as pleasant. He was drunk but the memories that he had so desperately wanted to escape were now tearing up his thoughts. He groaned and his hand shot out and grabbed the tiny bottle. He uncapped it and quickly brought it to his lips. He took a mouthful and then slammed the cap on the bottle and gagged. It tasted like he imagined that piss and rotten eggs might taste. He let the bottle tumble from his hand and briefly wondered if maybe the humanitarian talk that the girl had given him was just bull. Maybe this was how their family made their living. They'd take in poor drunk fools like him under the premise that they just wanted to help. Then they'd poison them and take whatever money the poor sap had to pilfer.

Spot groaned and turned on his side. He didn't really care if that was the truth at the moment. He was suddenly just so damn tired and desired to not think anymore. His eyes closed and soon, like Angelic had promised, his mind went blank and sleep followed.


	3. A Deal With the Devil

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S

Author's note: This is chapter three of The Edge of Tomorrow re-write. Haven't gotten much feedback yet but I'm enjoying this. I'm actually feeling excited to write this and see the finished product! Woohoo! Total side note but ideally I wanted Just to Love to take place two years **after** the strike and the whole story takes place over the course of almost a year. As The Edge of Tomorrow begins that year is coming to a close and the first few chapters take place around late August or September. Spot is seventeen (I'm assuming the _character_ of Spot was fifteen when the strike took place) and is nearly eighteen. Pretty much everyone else is aged by two years (for example, Jack was seventeen in Newsies and is now nineteen in this story). Just in case anyone was wondering.

Last thing - Thank you AngelicOne as always for all your kind words and continued reviews.

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any characters from Newsies. Reina is _my_ brainchild though ;)

Chapter Three

A Deal with The Devil

This was wrong and he knew it but he had made a choice and burned his bridges - literally.

"They weren't supposed to survive none of that. Wasn't that why we lit that place up like the fourth of July?" a second voice asked. It belonged to a young man with olive colored skin who was about eighteen years old. His dark brown hair hung strewn about his face and his chocolate-brown eyes were currently focused on the sharp, fine point of a blade which was etching mindlessly into the wooden table beneath him. "I mean, what with all the inside info we had goin' on. They never shoulda known," he paused then flicked his gaze upwards to the young man who sat across from him, "Right?"

The second young man sighed and placed a hand over his face. It was well known that the guy sitting in front of him, known as Reaper, was not easily fooled by much. He was much more observant than the usual young man his age and was exceedingly well gifted at reading facial gestures. He had earned his name by being able to absolutely reap the rewards of any poker game due to this gift. He could call anyone's bluff. Of course, it was purely coincidental that Reaper was a violent young man. His gang was less interested in selling papers and more interested in turf wars. Turning a profit from more sales territory was just the icing on the cake.

"Woulda, shoulda, coulda," the young man sighed and slapped his hand down on the table in frustration. He hated that this whole conversation was taking place but things had been done that now couldn't be un-done. He had chosen a side and going back was no longer an option. Granted, the choice had been made out of anger and betrayal but it _had_ been made.

"Right," Reaper hissed and smiled as though he was quite pleased with himself. "No matter, this works too. Now I'm hearin' that Spot Conlon is in Manhattan. Now we make sure we take Brooklyn and we'll claim Manhattan as well."

"Spot Conlon isn't a threat to you anymore!" the other figure snapped and immediately regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. It was the wrong response because if it didn't give off the fact that he was having regrets then it would only add more fuel to Reaper's fire.

Reaper nodded and sat back in his chair and waved the small blade back and forth in front of his face with a calm smile. "I know and that's why I wanna go after him," Reaper said as if this made perfect sense. Then in the blink of an eye Reaper stabbed the blade into the table and it caused the table to quiver and shake. "I don't leave loose ends," Reaper said with a wild twinkle in his eyes. He folded his hands calmly and proceeded to lean back once again. The second young man watched Reaper silently and expressionless, though inside the bad feeling he had previously had gotten worse.

"What about Manhattan? You won't be able to take it. Manhattan has too many people backin' them."

"Same way I took Brooklyn. I'm goin' after Kelly first, strikin' their heart," he said with a devious smile, "So to speak. I get rid of Kelly and without their leader they'll be lost. If I gotta take out some guys along the way to show them Staten means business, then so be it," Reaper explained casually.

"What do you mean 'take out some guys'?" the other young man asked and felt his blood chill. This was getting _way_ out of hand. He had never meant to get anyone hurt. He'd stolen and lied before in his life but cold blooded murder was another thing entirely.

Reaper just gave a smile that was scary because of the madness that hid beneath it.

The young man stood up and shoved his chair at the table, turning away.

"I can count on your help, right?" Reaper asked while still smiling and his gaze bore straight into the young man's back. "You were so much help in bringin' down Brooklyn," Reaper said, making sure that the words would remind the young man. The young man felt his breath catch in his throat. The truth hurt. "No. No this is wrong and I never meant for it to go this far."

That's what he wanted to say but fear made him reply with a short, "Sure."

"Wonderful," Reaper said and retrieved his favorite knife from the table. The young man was relieved that Reaper could only read faces and not minds for his was awash of fear and anxiety. People were going to be hurt and that was way beyond him. He had gotten into brawls before and had really managed to lay a guy or two out in his time but what Reaper was talking about was killing people.

The young man exited the room and fell back against the wall. He slid down until he was sitting and put his head in his hands. He was in over his head and he felt like he was drowning.

"Kid?"

Kid looked up from his hands and looked at the young woman standing before him. She was dressed like a boy with the exception of her face. Her face was really very cute and gave away that she indeed was a girl. Her facial features were soft and still very young, not quite showing the signs of womanhood. Her wavy hair was a burnt sierra brown with a touch of blonde that stood out in the right light. He took notice that it had become slightly longer since they had first met nearly a year ago. Her eyes were a soft blue that reminded him of water and right now they looked concerned but alert.

"What happened?" she asked and crouched in front of him.

"It's," he swallowed back his doubt and fear. He hated to lie to her but her whole life had become a series of lies. Most of those lies had been started and perpetuated by him. "It's nothing."

He saw her raise an eyebrow in suspicion. "Really? Nothing?" she pressed and Kid found he was able to somehow smile. "Yeah, it's just that guy Reaper. He's crazy and his ideas are almost-"

"Scary?" she finished his sentence. Kid nodded in agreement, "You think so too?" She tilted her head slightly in contemplation. "Yeah, I do. The guy is pretty attractive, and don't you _dare_ tell him I said that, but there's," she hesitated and her voice took on a note of worry. "There's something off about him. Like he's, I don't know," she struggled with an accurate description.

"Dangerous," they said in unison. Kid caught her gaze with his own and put a hand to her cheek, cupping it slightly. This is why he had done everything he'd been guilty of as of late. This is why he had betrayed his best friend. He had been crazy about Reina ever since he'd met her. He'd seen something special in her from the start. Then Spot had fallen for her and that had proved too much for him to bear. Couple with the fact that a rather large part of him had revealed itself to be sick of being number two to Spot Conlon.

Reina shied away slightly but didn't pull away from his hand and Kid smiled as he stroked her cheek. "I'm the only one I want you to think is attractive," he said truthfully and Reina laughed nervously. "Kid," she said and shook her head. She gingerly took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He leaned forward and softly kissed her cheek then stood up.

This was all he had left now and he knew he was about to sell his soul for her.


	4. The Sympathy Drum

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S.

Author's Note: Not much to say. I'm super tired tonight but I want to write this chapter really bad. Total random side-note! Did you know that in real life during the newsboy's strike of 1899, their leader's name was Kid Blink? Yep! Kid Blink was a real guy! I'm sure a lot of you already knew that but in doing some research for this chapter I came across that interesting little tid bit. Thought that I'd share :D

Also! I'm putting a fair amount of research into this story in terms of the timeline. Actually there was no laws on underage drinking around 1901 and prostitution laws were not created until round-a-bout 1910.

Chapter Four

The Sympathy Drum

For being so ridiculously drunk the previous night, Spot Conlon found him wide awake just as the first orange rays of the sun were gracing the skyline. He had not come with anything he could remember but he was certainly leaving with something. He had been solidly sloshed the night before but Angelic's voice seemed to be tacked into his brain.

"_You'll find them. I just know it_."

It was odd how strange a feeling those simple words had evoked within him. Now suddenly he wasn't exactly optimistic but he was certainly curious. Questions were now filling his mind - Would he find either Reina or Kid if he dared to step foot into Staten? Wouldn't it be worth trying? Could he at least find closure? He rubbed his temples with one hand while sitting on the side of the mattress. This had definitely been the first time in a long time that he had indulged himself so in liquor without awaking to a splitting headache. He glanced at the brown bottle of medicine that Angelic had insisted he take. He briefly considered the idea of taking it with him, after all it would be damn useful for future uses, but something inside of him restricted him from doing so. There had been a high chance that if Angelic had not taken him in that he would have been the by-product of a good solid beating from the angry man known as Murray. He also would have had the cold, hard ground for a bed instead of a warm mattress. "And a hell of a headache," he thought and sighed and tossed the bottle onto the bed. He wasn't really a man of morals but taking advantage of this situation surely would've earned him a high spot in hell.

"Funny how I never really had a conscience until Reina came around," he thought and that very thought forced a bitter laugh out of him. It was impossible to say why he missed her so much because certainly he had been a different man without her, maybe even better off. For the first time in a while he felt a stab of frustration accompany the thought of Reina. Oh hell, what was that saying? "The heart wants what it wants," he thought and smiled. That'd had always very much applied to him but now his heart desired something other than drink, women and power. "Well, maybe still power," he thought honestly and stood from the mattress. On his way out, Spot lightly tapped the bedroom door and saw two figures snuggled under the warm bedding. He hurried out without another hesitation. His instincts told him that if he was still here when Angelic's mother awoke, there'd be heavy hell to pay and lots of bitching.

***

It had only taken Spot a couple of hours to find his way back to the Manhattan lodging house and it was mostly thanks to his street smarts. Even though he had let his legs carry him to places unknown, Spot Conlon would always know a thing or two about finding his way around New York.

"Hey! Spot!" a voice cried out and a group of three boys eagerly rushed over to him once he stepped inside.

"Where've ya been?" asked a shorter, younger boy who was known as Butters back in Brooklyn. Racetrack Higgins slapped a hand on Spot's back and Spot smirked just ever so slightly. "Finally!" Racetrack said and leaned into him while chewing away at a rather large cigar. "Did ya finally get that heavy chastity belt off and get some good ass?" he said and the other couple of boys snickered. Spot closed his eyes and held up his hands, still smirking a little. "Yeah, yeah, I gotta confess to ya Race! Your sister was a lot of help in _that_ department! She just kept beggin' for more," Spot said and opened his eyes to look directly at Race with a smug smile. "And I just kept givin' it to her," Spot tacked on and Race withdrew the cigar from his mouth momentairly and pointed a finger at Spot. "Hey!!"

The other boys and some who overheard were in heavy fits of laughter and a couple slapped Spot on the back in a congratulatory manner. "It's good to have you back," Kid Blink whispered to Spot and Spot tilted his head. It was true that he had certainly felt much livelier than he had in the last few months but was he _really_ back to him old self again?

"I second that," Jack Kelly said while strolling over. He smiled at Spot as he past and leaned into Racetrack and swiped the cigar from his fingers. "I told ya and Kloppman has told ya, no smoking these things in here," Jack said sternly and stepped back. Since Jack was well beyond the average age for selling papers, he had since taken a position in helping Kloppman run the lodging house. As Kloppman was getting on in age, Jack seized the opportunity to help him out and still be able to keep an eye on his boys.

"It wasn't lit!" Race argued and snatched at the stolen cigar. Jack held it out of his reach, having always been taller than Race. "Geeze," Race said while now backing off. "You're worse than my mother!"

"Oh yeah? Funny you should say cause she said the same thing about you while I was in her bed last night," Jack countered and the other boys began to laugh again and Race, for his part, just rolled his eyes. "Yeah very funny wise ass. First my sister and now my mother. Anyone else wanna take shots at my family!? Maybe my grandma next?!" Race shouted.

"I caught her in bed with your buddy Kloppman here. It made great headlines," a new voice chimed in. The boys looked over to the person entering room and most were still laughing. It only added to the hilarity when Kloppman, who was also a part of the crowd, made lewd kissing sounds at the air. Race looked like he would be sick.

"Denton," Jack said with a smirk and approached the man. Bryan Denton had a smile that could charm a snake and a face that made you want to trust him. "Long time no see Dents," Spot said and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Well, it's a profound pleasure to see you too Spot," Denton said and chuckled lightly, "But why are you looking at me like I'm hiding a gun?"

"Are ya?" Spot shot back and to that Denton opened the sides of his beige-colored suit coat, revealing the inside and shrugged whilst still holding the coat open. He then laughed and for the first time in a long time, Spot laughed with him. Spot approached Denton and thrust a hand forward. Denton gripped it and shook it firmly.

"So what do we owe the pleasure old man?" Spot asked but meant the entire statement jokingly. Denton didn't break eye contact his Spot but he laughed a little. "Oooh," he put a hand to his chest and feigned injury at being called an "old man."

"Well, actually, I'm here because Jack told me that you could really be using my help," Denton then glanced at Jack who nodded in agreement. "That and that it was about a story that would, as he put it, 'put another suit on my back'," he said and smiled kindly again. "So here I am!" he said and spread his hands out wide.

Spot glanced at Jack and his brow furrowed in confusion. Spot was rarely pleased when plans were made that concerned him without his knowing so. "What's this all about Kelly?" Spot demanded roughly and Jack stepped closer to Spot. He knew Spot was pissed because otherwise he wouldn't have used such a rough way of addressing Jack. Jack stepped in front of Spot and faced him head on.

"Now before ya go and get your panties in a bunch lemme explain. I asked Denton here on your behalf," he explained and leaned into Spot so that he could now whisper the next part in his ear. "I did it hopin' that it would snap you outta this funk you been since Brooklyn," Jack said quietly so that only he and Spot could hear. He pulled back and continued. "I heard your story and came up with this plan. A plan that involves our good pal Denton here," Jack said and stepped back towards Denton who was presently in the process of taking a sip of water from a glass. "I figured if anyone could tell your story it'd be old Denton here," Jack said and gave Denton a hearty slap on the back. Denton promptly choked up some of his water partly from the slap and partly from being called "old" twice in one day. "Ain't that right Dents?" Jack said proudly. Denton immediately set the glass down on a nearby table. He coughed a couple more times then made a face, "Ah, yes. To elaborate, Spot," Denton said and took a giant step away from Jack Kelly who still wore a wide, proud grin.

"I understand you've had some trouble with a Mr. Edward Vanderbelt, right?" Denton asked and narrowed his eyes. It was a look Spot had seen Denton use before when he was working out the details in his head.

"Yeah? So? The guy's a monster," Spot said sourly and before he could continue Denton cut him off.

"Exactly! Edward Vanderbelt's reputation and what he does is no secret to anyone but he keeps the police paid well and no other reporter is brave enough to dare and write an article on him," Denton explained with his voice rising slightly in excitement.

"And you are?" Spot asked and leaned against a nearby pole, his arms crossed in a un-convinced sort of way.

"It's not any crazier than helping a group of kids go up against one of the biggest newspaper tycoons in New York, is it?" Denton asked with a playful smile and Spot had to nod. "Okay, point well said," Spot said calmly. "What's your plan Dents?"

Denton now focused solely on Spot and spoke slowly, like he was sharing a juicy secret. "I'm going to beat the sympathy drum while taking down one of New York's seediest business men that ever existed."

"Sympathy drum? What the hell is that?" Spot asked while screw up his face in confusion.

"It's another way of saying getting sympathy. You know, ah," he paused to consider how to explain it. "Another term is 'drumming up sympathy' it simply means that I'm going to tell your story and make you the victim. At the same time, I have a young guy like you testify against Vanderbelt," Denton promptly hesitated. "Ah, that is if you don't mind."

"Testify? That's all? I'll do you one better and shove by shoe so far up his ass that he'll taste dirt," Spot said with seething anger at the mere thought of the man known as Vanderbelt.

"That," Denton said and held up his hand, "That won't be quite necessary. It won't just be you Spot. I want to talk to everyone here who lived at Brooklyn and I want tears."

"I ain't cryin'," Spot said and raised a single eyebrow.

"You don't have to literally cry but the sadder and sappier the better. I want to hear about how poor, innocent-" at that most of the boys in the lodging house snickered and snorted. Denton continued and put emphasis on his next words, "_INNOCENT, _boys who just barely manage to scrape by, have now lost everything, what little they had. How Vanderbelt helped to exploit you and put you out on the _streets_," Denton was practically yelling now. "And then in the process we expose his business in illegal kidnapping and under-age prostitution."

"That's all fine and dandy but the name Spot Conlon and the word 'innocent' don't exactly make good bedmates," Race chimed in and glanced to Spot. "No offense or nothin' Spot," and Spot simply shrugged. He couldn't fight the truth.

"Yeah well that's why you guys gotta keep your noses clean in the meantime. I'm not working this story to appeal to the lower class," Denton said this sort of sheepishly but none of the boys took offense. They all knew where they stood in terms of the social class totem pole.

"We need the religious groups and the wealthy to read this and feel terrible for you guys. My hope is that with a little luck and a hell of a good story, not only will we be able to shut down Vanderbelt but we may also be able to get the Brooklyn newsboy lodging house re-built, mostly by donations," Denton finished explaining and picked up the glass of water once more.

"We'll get you back to Brooklyn Spot. With Denton on your side ya can't lose!" Jack beamed and went to slap Denton on the back again. Denton hurriedly stepped forward to avoid Jack's forceful pat and quickly swallowed his gulp of water.

Spot considered everything Denton had said and thought furiously to find anything within that plan that may not work. Spot liked to be thorough when strategizing. "Yeah but who's gunna take my word against Vanderbelt's?" Spot inquired.

"Well _that_ is why I need you to keep your nose clean. Stay out of trouble, just for the time being. When my article is done and printed, it won't matter if you are Theodore Roosevelt or Chuck Nobody from Iowa. As long as I can't paint you as the victim people will take your side," Denton explained.

Spot watched Denton's expression carefully. Even he had to admit that it seemed like a good idea, fail proof maybe. However, Spot knew of many times in the past that he'd done something he thought was a good idea only to have it backfire miserably. "But what do you got left to lose?" he thought to himself and at that minute the memory of Reina came into his mind.

"Wait, Denton, I got someone who might be able to help," Spot said. "Great! Where are they?" Denton asked eagerly. Spot glanced at the floor and swallowed hard but then met Denton's gaze again. "I don't know where they are. I don't even know if she's alive," Spot confessed and then was quick to add, "Some guys from Staten were there when Brooklyn burnt. I'm going to go there and see if they took her there."

"She?" Denton asked with his curiousity piqued.

"Yeah, she was a friend of mine who was kidnapped by that snake not too long ago. She'd be able to give ya the inside scoop and all the dirty details," Spot said. Jack was the first to speak up, "Spot you can't go to Staten by yourself."

"Yeah there's some real tough guys that live there. They don't take well to other newsies wanderin' on their turf," Kid Blink chimed in as a warning.

"Yeah I use to play poker with some of those guys and let me tell ya, you think I'm bad? You can't trust any of them as far as you throw them," Race added.

"I had a friend who went there to try and talk to some of them guys and he never came back," Skittery interjected.

"All the same, I'm still going. I got two people I gotta make sure are okay," Spot said with his mind already made-up.

"Then I'm goin' too!" Butters offered. "Yeah me too!" another younger newsie named Peepers spoke up.

"_No_!" Spot said loudly. "What are you all deaf?! You heard Denton. We gotta keep our noses clean and you think that if I go marchin' in there with a small army backin' me that isn't going to set off alarms? Those guys will be on us quicker than bums on bread! I'm goin' alone," Spot said.

"At least let me go with ya Spot," Jack said. "You don't need an army but you need a right hand in case things get bad," he reasoned. Spot wanted to say no but Jack made a decent point.

"I wanna go," another voice piped up. A young man stepped forward out of the crowd. He was fairly handsome with shaggy blonde hair and hazel eyes along with freckles, however he looked more mature than most. Spot recognized him as one of his boys back when he had reigned over Brooklyn. He didn't remember too much about the guy other than that he liked to run his mouth a lot and one other annoying detail that he couldn't presently remember.

"The name's King," he said, introducing himself and Spot remembered that last annoying detail.


	5. Lost and Found

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S.

Author's Note: I'm kind of psyched! I've been reading up on the possibility of _Newsies_ becoming a Broadway play and it seems that recently (March 9th) there was news that Disney registered domain names on the web like NewsiesTheMusical dot com_, _among others. On top of that, there was the news back in December that said Alan Menken (big Disney lyricist) and Jack Feldman were working on bringing it to the stage. I'd love to see this! I figured I'd share 3

Disclaimer: I do not own _Newsies_ or any aspect of the film, those rights belong to Disney. I am merely borrowing the characters for entertainment purposes only and for no financial gain. I do, however, own my own characters (Reina, Reaper, Kid, King, Butters and Edward Vanderbelt) and no one is to use them without my permission.

Chapter Five

Lost and Found

"Why the hell don't ya ever shut up?" Spot groaned as he searched the crowd of pedestrians waiting to ride the ferry to Staten Island. Spot moved in when he saw some old richer with a tan hand purse arguing with her husband.

"I'm just sayin' Spot," King continued. "Had _you_ kept a better reign on your boys, you wouldn't be in this mess to begin with," King said innocently enough. Spot turned around immediately with fire in his eyes, momentarily forgetting the woman and her purse.

"Oh yeah? You think you know all there is to know and you can just waltz right up and be a leader? You ignorant bum! I didn't get to be leader by bein' a wise ass!" Spot growled, getting right in front of King's face.

"King," he said the name disdainfully as if it were a joke.

"The only thing you're the 'king' of is wise assin'," Spot said and turned his attention back to the woman. The woman threw her purse at her husband in frustration who absent mindedly set it on a rather tall piece of luggage that stood beside him.

Spot immediately moved in to seize his chance.

He shuffled about in the hand bag while the husband was preoccupied with his angry wife. With lightning speed he retrieved a small coin purse and withdrew two nickels and a quarter. He placed the little coin purse back within the bag and hurriedly stepped away. Spot had learned early on in his life of pick pocketing that you only took what you needed (and maybe some extra to keep you comfy) but if you took the whole thing that you were bound to be caught. The last thing he needed was to be caught by authorities on the ferry with this woman's coin purse in hand.

"Well, at least there's one thing you can do right," King said with a smirk and held out his open hand, waiting for his fare. Spot returned the smirk and held out a nickel to King, ready to drop the coin into his palm. Then he suddenly withdrew his offer and walked past King. King began to protest but Spot cut him off. "If you is so great King, you should have no problem gettin' your own fare," Spot said and left King to fend for himself.

***

For the most part, the ferry ride to Staten had been enjoyed in silence, save for the hushed murmurs of those sharing in their own conversations around them. Spot had not bothered to favor King with one look the entire ride. For his part, King had done the same. It was only once Staten was in sight that King finally broke the silence that had befallen them.

King sat back on one of the ferry's benches with his arms spread across the top.

"So what is it you hope to accomplish in Staten with this little visit?" King asked skeptically.

"You got wax in your ears? Didn't you hear anything that was said back in Manhattan?" Spot shot back, not turning from his spot where he leaned against the ship's side.

"Yeah I heard it, I just wanted to make sure I heard _right_. We're doing this, riskin' our own hides, for a _girl_?" King asked, raising an eyebrow. He then snorted and rolled his eyes, "Geeze, when you fall, you fall hard," King said with a chuckle and Spot was on him immediately. Spot seized the collar of King's shirt and jerked him up by it. King glared and sent a punch into Spot's stomach but Spot merely winced and swallowed hard, still gripping King's shirt collar. "That's," he paused to catch his breath, "That's it? You're all talk King and no hit," Spot growled and suddenly threw King up against the side of the ferry. He leaned over with King still in grasp and saw to it that the majority of King was hanging over the side.

"How about I soak ya? Literally. It'd give you a reason to keep that wide hole in your face shut," Spot offered.

King threw aimless punches and none of them connected. He could see the rushing water below and panic flooded him.

"Okay! Okay, _okay_! Lemme up!"

"I will as soon as I get a promise from you that I won't hear another peep outta you until we get to Staten. Do we got ourselves a deal?"

"Y-yeah! FINE! Now pull me up!!" King screamed. Spot turned on his left foot and threw King onto the safe floor of the ferry. King lay sprawled out, panting, his face red from screaming. By now, a small crowd had turned to watch. "What're you all looking at?!" Spot yelled and then walked over to King. King scrambled back and pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Don't you-"

"Uh, uh, uh," Spot said and readied his hand upon his favorite cane. "I believe our deal was _not_ another peep," he corrected and King promptly shut his mouth. Spot smiled and nodded, "That's much better."

Spot parked himself down on a seat for the remainder of the trip. Admittedly, it had felt good to assert himself and put King in his place. After all, _no one_ messed with Brooklyn's leader and got away with it.

His thoughts immediately turned to Edward Vanderbelt and those who had crossed him and his hand gripped the top of his cane until it hurt – no one.

***

By the time Spot and King arrived at their destination, the sun was beginning to dip into the ocean. King had made good on his promise and had not said a word since the ferry although Spot could tell he really wanted to. At this point they had walked miles and were deep into Staten territory. Spot grabbed King suddenly and threw him against the wall, getting close enough to whisper so that he could hear.

"Hey!! I kept my word-"

"Shut up and listen to me and you better listen good," Spot began with a look as serious as stone set in eyes. "We ain't here to start a fight. We're here to scope out the place and get information."

"I don't get it, why waste time with all this when we can just send them a message of our own?" suddenly King took on a sneaky grin as he entertained the thought. "Cause I could take 'em but I don't know about you Spot. I understand if you have your doubts and all."

Spot narrowed his eyes and had to seriously resist the urge to punch King in his smug face. "And you think you'd make a good leader? Anyone with brains knows that you don't attack someone without knowin' their weak spot first."

"Is that how they took you down?" King shot back. Spot considered that and realized that the question didn't make him as angry as it should have.

It was the truth after all. He found that after all that had happened, all his moping, meeting Angelic and Denton's visit, he found that he could finally admit defeat. He was prepared to admit it and make sure it _never_ happened again.

After a moment he responded, "Yeah. I think it was," he said honestly but then glared at King again. "But that ain't happenin' again. You mark my words, if you pull one over on me, you only do it once," Spot said with an icy calmness to his voice. He directed his words right at King.

"Okay, so what's the plan genius?" King asked and shoved Spot off of him. He straightened his hat just moments before Spot yanked the front end down over his eyes. "Keep your hat low. I don't think we gotta worry but we don't wanna be recognized."

"Fine," King answered simply and complied.

"Second, I need your cooperation. Fine, you hate me but you're also supposed to be my back up," Spot reminded him sternly.

He gave King no chance to respond, "And so help me, if you turn tail and run when things get bad or you double-cross me, you _will_ live to regret it," Spot threatened with a look so serious that it would have made anyone nervous. King opened his mouth as if to respond but just gave a firm nod.

"Good. Now follow my lead and keep your mouth shut. I'll do any talkin' that's needed," Spot said and adjusted his own hat so that it shadowed his eyes. They both stepped out of the alley and began to walk. Spot was still quite pleased with how he had managed to handle King but now other thoughts were beginning to bother him. What if he didn't find either Reina or Kid? Then what?

"Then I haul ass back to Manhattan with what I've learned and come back with an army twice their size," his mind responded confidently and he smiled to himself. He'd worry about everything else after this visit was over.

It was then that he ran straight into someone. His initial instincts took over and he shoved the person backwards.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" they threatened. Spot was face to face with a very drunk man who smelled as bad as he looked.

"You hit me," Spot said, trying to keep his tone cool and even. He didn't want to get into a fight here. There was far too much at stake and he couldn't risk drawing attention to himself. The man glared at him but squinted at the same time as if trying to see him properly. Spot sighed in frustration and slapped the man kindly on the back. "Beg my pardon," he offered with a softer tone. The man continued to eye him then shoved past him, grumbling as he did so. "Crazy punk, wouldn't even stand still while I was watchin' him."

Spot saw the tavern he had come from and nodded to King. "Hey, in there," he pointed out and King followed him inside. At the very least, he could maybe ask some questions or gain some information from someone inside.

Spot pushed the door open and could hear rowdy conversation and music, unlike Angelic's pub which, had been relatively quiet. The mood in this tavern was different from the other. It seemed almost dangerous and completely unfriendly. Spot felt the hairs on his neck stand up and his instincts told him to be ready for anything.

Suddenly, another person shoved into Spot and he ground his teeth together. He was about to lose what little self restraint he had managed but then he saw their face and he felt his throat tighten. They were dressed like a boy and unless you had gotten a really good look at their face, you wouldn't be able to distinguish that their features were much finer than any man's. A couple of strands of wavy, sandy brown hair were poking out from beneath their paperboy cap.

"Reina?" he asked as if unable to believe his eyes. Suddenly in that single moment, all his fears, questions and suspicions had been laid temporarily to rest.

"Yes…?" she asked with a tilt of her head and after the initial surprise had melted away, Spot noticed a faint redness upon her cheeks that was not caused from blushing.

"Reina are you _drunk_?!" Spot shouted, louder than he would have cared to but it paled in comparison to the voices in the rest of the bar. Reina giggled slightly and pointed a single finger at him as if to correct him.

"_No_," she said quickly, "and _who_ are _you_ to suggest that?" she demanded and leaned in slightly towards him. Suddenly her eyes widened in realization. Spot waited for her to recognize him.

"I **am** drunk, aren't I!?" she gasped in wonder and then slowly her open mouth expression graduated into a full blown smile. "I have never done this before. I swear!" she said laughing and placed a hand over her heart. Spot rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm gently.

"Reina, listen to me-"

Reina promptly yanked her arm back as though his touch had burned her skin. "You, I am NOT that drunk that you can just-"Spot cut her off almost immediately, realization dawning on him.

"Do you remember me?" Spot asked softly and Reina narrowed her eyes as if trying to recognize him. "We've met?" she asked simply and she didn't get time to ask further questions before another voice called her by her old street name.

"Hey Kitty! What're you doing over there?!"

Spot looked past her and felt the second wave of surprise hit him. There, surrounded by other rough looking guys, sat Kid.

He looked pretty much the same except he blended into the scenery much better than he would have when he lived in Brooklyn. Somehow his bright green eyes seemed to have darkened and he had foregone shaving. His black locks had gone uncut and now were quite shaggy. He looked much more rugged than his previous clean cut appearance in Brooklyn.

Reina glanced over her shoulder to look at Kid and beamed. "Relax Kid! I swear I was getting some air but certain _things_ distracted me," she said and raised an eyebrow playfully at Spot. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," Spot said quickly and glanced back at King, who was watching Spot intently for instruction. Suddenly King seemed to grasp the urgency in Spot's stare and began to back out the door. Spot glanced over Reina's shoulder at Kid, trying to catch his stare and hoping that Kid got the message too. He saw Kid lock eyes with him and was caught off guard by the look Kid shot him.

He had expected Kid to look surprised or maybe even overjoyed but certainly not the hatefully cold glare he was giving him now. Spot stood motionless for a moment before he realized that Kid was heading straight for them, alerting the guys he sat with of Spot's presence.

Spot found that he was suddenly torn.

He wanted to stay and talk to Kid and figure everything out but an instinct deep inside of him told him to get out of there – fast.

He turned to leave before Reina caught his arm and turned him around roughly. "Hey I wasn't-"

He grabbed her hand that was upon his arm and looked straight into her eyes. He watched her drunken smile fade slightly and a look of familiarity dawned upon her.

"…Spot…?" she asked dazedly and before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him out the door. The following events seemed to happen in a blur. Before he had even thought about it he was running down the street with her, King leading the way. Behind him he heard the pounding of feet following and heard heavy panting.

Reina followed closely at his side, stumbling periodically but Spot tugged her up and urged her on.

They turned a sharp corner into a dank, dark alley and Spot felt himself clutch tightly at Reina's hand as if he were afraid she'd slip away. Then he abruptly came to a tall wall of brick that signaled the end of the alley. He spun quickly and King mirrored his movements. Spot shoved Reina back and King caught her and ushered her behind him.

"What the hell is going on!?" she demanded, still drunk but fully aware of what was going on now.

Spot watched as a group of about six guys stalked towards him like wolves, Kid leading them.

"Kid," he breathed and his hand hovered over his cane. Kid glared unkindly, "Spot," he said evenly but kept advancing. At that, Spot withdrew his cane, still unable to believe he was about to have to use it on his best friend but his instincts had taken hold.

Kid shook his head, "Still managed to hold onto that cane, did you?" he asked cynically.

"It was about the only thing I managed to hold onto," Spot countered with an edge to his voice. "I don't wanna fight you Kid."

"Oh yeah? Well, I wanna fight you," Kid spat and reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a pocket knife. It suddenly hit Spot like a bag of rocks and it hurt all the same; Kid had betrayed him. He had spent months wondering how things had played out as they had. He remembered Figgy's betrayal but upon reflecting on it, he had decided it couldn't have possibly been Figgy alone.

His stomach felt sick as he realized he had been right.

Kid was nearly upon him now.

Kid held a single hand up to signal the guys behind him to halt. They looked like a bunch of wild animals that were eager for the kill. Kid stepped forward and flipped the knife into the air, then caught it in a single hand and held it out in front of him. He aimed it in Spot's direction. "Knife trumps cane, Spot."

Spot swallowed hard – he had never been one to hesitate to fight but this circumstance was different. He immediately began to remember past memories he'd had with Kid.

They had been young newsies in Brooklyn and some older kid was about to beat Spot for his daily earnings. Spot, always having been scrawny in his younger days, had kicked and yelled but it had been Kid who had thrown the first punch.

"_You can't let guys like that shove you around, you know_," Kid had said.

"_I can't help it. I can't take them alone_," eight year old Spot had confessed.

"_You don't gotta, I'll help ya out_!" Kid had replied with no questions asked.

Spot hurriedly buried the memory back into his mind. He then allowed his hand to drop from his cane and stepped forward so that Kid's knife point was mere centimeters from his chest.

"You _really_ wanna do this Kid?" Spot asked and looked his best friend square in the eyes.

Kid did not respond but his expression remained unchanged.

"What happened to helpin' each other out?" Spot asked.

"You," Kid answered simply. "You are one to talk Spot. You never gave a sniff for anyone but yourself. How do you think you became leader?! I was never your friend! I was your number two who cleaned up after you!" Kid spat angrily and Spot had never seen Kid with such hatred displayed upon his face.

"That ain't true," Spot said quietly but he felt the lie in his words.

"_**Bullshit**_!" Kid screamed. He was red in the face now and his hand holding the knife shook slightly. "Then she came along," Kid said and looked past Spot and King to Reina.

"Kid," Reina whispered as though he had wounded her.

"I cared about her ever since she showed up. She felt the same way about me too but then just like everything else good that ever came along, big leader Spot Conlon had to get his paws on it. You just couldn't let me have anything, could you?!"

Kid now pushed the blade tip slightly into Spot's skin and Spot fought back the urge to wince.

"Whatever Brooklyn wants, Brooklyn gets, right Spot?" Kid said acidly.

"Stop it Kid!" Reina cried and pushed past King, stepping up beside Spot.

"Reina," Kid began, his look softening just slightly. "Get away from him."

Reina shook her head slightly and stepped closer to Kid. "I won't. I don't want you to do this," she said firmly. Spot didn't look away from Kid.

"You don't even remember him!" Kid yelled.

"I don't remember a lot of things and yes, I don't remember him, but Kid _please_ don't do this. Something inside of me is screaming that this is wrong and it," she hesitated and hung her head as if about to admit a dirty secret. "It hurts."

Kid's eyes softened just slightly at her words but he did not back down.

Finally, he spoke, "I'm sorry Reina. I can't let him take you," Kid confessed and turned his hatred back to Spot. Reina dove at him and grabbed his arm and at that moment a voice echoed in the alley.

"Never fear Manhattan is here!"

Spot and King glanced behind the group of guy and saw Racetrack, Mush, Kid Blink, Specs and Skittery already moving in on the guys from behind. They were all led by Jack Kelly.

Spot cursed softly and withdrew his cane. "I'm sorry I gotta do this Kid," he thought to himself and then jabbed the end of his cane into Kid's stomach. Kid yelled out in pain and dropped the knife. Reina released his arm and in a flash, Spot grabbed her hand. King ran forward and uppercut Kid in the jaw.

Spot pulled her past the boys and took note that Manhattan seemed to have the upper hand. Once past the alley, he released Reina's hand and looked at her. "You stay put!" he demanded and Reina just nodded, as if she were shocked by what had just transpired. "Spot!" she began but the words caught in her throat. What could she say?

Spot gave her a short nod and ran back to the fight to help the Manhattan guys. He swung his cane and connected it with a guy that Racetrack was taking on. Race ducked in time and it connected with the guy's skull with a thick smack. The guy went out cold and Race grinned. "I swear I'll never give you shit about that damn cane again," Race said with a grin.

It didn't take long before Kid, and the group he'd intended to attack Spot with were, out cold.

"You're a damn fool Jackie boy," Spot said, panting but saw Jack just grinning ear to ear. "Yeah, but you knew that Spot. Just like I knew you'd be needin' our help."

"Yeah! You and trouble go together like beer and hangovers," Skittery said, playfully punching Spot in the shoulder. Spot rolled his eyes and secured his cane back in the loophole in his pants.

"Yeah or broads and boobs!" Mush chimed in and the others chuckled softly.

"We should shove off," Spot said, wanting to put an end to the jokes – he wasn't in the mood. They left the alley and Spot froze when he saw Reina. She wore a devastated look upon her face.

"You go ahead," Spot said to Jack and gave the others a serious look that indicated that now was not the time for jokes. Jack nodded, understanding the situation, "Come on! We gotta ferry to catch!" Jack rallied and the others followed in suit.

Spot approached Reina and watched her, unsure of what to say or do. He was surprised when she was the first to speak.

"Let's go," she said softly, her voice sounding quiet and sad.

"Reina," Spot began but she immediately shook her head to negate him.

"No, don't say anything, I just wanna go now," she said and looked into his eyes pleadingly. "Please?"

Spot's lips tightened and he took her hand securely. "Let's go."

She nodded and followed him but glanced over her shoulder to the alley where Kid lay.

Spot frowned as he tugged her along. "I'm sorry," he thought while not being entirely sure if he was apologizing to himself or his friends.


	6. Seeking Solid Ground

The Edge of Tomorrow

By: Laney S.

Author's Note: Holy crud! I just fixed chapter four. I'm such a dunce :B

Not going to waste too much time here. No one's really reading anyhow :0)

Disclaimer: I do not own _Newsies_ or any aspect of the film, those rights belong to Disney. I am merely borrowing the characters for entertainment purposes only and for no financial gain. I do, however, own my own characters (Reina, Reaper, Kid, King, Butters and Edward Vanderbelt) and no one is to use them without my permission.

Chapter Six

Seeking Solid Ground

The young men had all managed to catch the last ferry for the night to Manhattan. This was good because it would have been dangerous to remain in Staten after fighting Kid and his small gang. Spot stood beside Jack Kelly but said very little. His head was now fuller than it had been on the trip there.

"Funny," Spot thought. "I'd figured that once I'd have found them that things would've been…better."

"You know Spot, that's just how some things work," Jack said softly as if reading his mind. Jack was facing the ocean and the cold night air was blowing bits of hair around the side of his face.

"Don't," Spot said softly. "You don't know the situation."

"No Spot, that's just it, I _do_," Jack insisted and looked over at Spot.

"You think that when the strike was goin' on that I had ever thought I'd come out of that as on top as I was? Nah, I couldn't have guessed that, but what's more, I wouldn't have thought I'd find myself a family," Jack said and thumbed his nose lightly.

"Two families, actually," he continued, indicating the newsies and his voice got a little quieter. "I never thought for one minute that something _that_ nice would be so brief. I mean, we're supposed to live happily ever after, right?" Jack said and Spot noticed there was a touch of bitterness in his voice now.

"Says who?" Spot thought to himself.

"I guess I shoulda figured though," Jack confessed.

"If you're talkin' about Davey and his family, you made a choice there Jack," Spot said honestly, not stopping to think of how cold it may have come out. Jack just pursed his lips and shuffled his feet slightly.

"True," Jack said then pushed his hair back and looked back over to Spot, "But didn't you too?"

Spot now looked back at his friend and said nothing but inside he was slightly confused.

"You chose that girl. I didn't see you come runnin' outta that bar with her _and_ Kid," Jack corrected and Spot felt anger begin to boil up within his chest. "What's your point to this conversation Kelly!?"

"My point is, Spot, that we all gotta make choices and most of the time, they're choices that you're always going to look back on and wonder about. For me, its wonderin' if I shoulda left with Davey and his family when they went out west."

"_You_ made your choice a long time ago when you took leadership of Brooklyn and then with that girl. All you can do in life is make choices Spot. You can't see beyond those choices and see how its gunna turn out. If you could do that do you think there'd ever be any such thing as a _bad_ choice?" Jack said and Spot felt his anger turn to something else entirely – regret.

After a long moment of thought he answered, "Your right," Spot said and Jack had to resist the urge to laugh just a little despite the gloomy conversation that had just taken place. He had never heard those words come from Spot before.

"Look, I'm not goin' to say anything more about it except that if you think _you're_ feelin' bad, imagine how your girl pal must be feelin'. At least you still got your memories," Jack said and gave Spot a slight nudge of encouragement.

"You came all the way here to find her, didn't you? I would think you two probably got a lot of talkin' to do."

Spot still said nothing to Jack, he no longer felt like talking but at the same time he knew Jack had a point. There were still things to figure out and things he wanted to know. Reina could, at the very least, fill him in on what had transpired on her end over the last few months. Spot drew in a deep breath and filled his lungs with the smell of the ocean. He glanced to Jack, "Hey Cowboy? You happen to have seen where she got to?"

Jack nodded towards the ship's top deck and Spot began to head towards the top. He found that once there, sure enough, Reina stood alone at the top deck. She had her hat off so that her wavy hair was being tossed around by the chilly wind. The top deck was empty due to the fact that the ferry was not as full as it had been in the day time. It didn't help either that the top deck was hideously cold to boot. Spot walked over beside her and hesitated but went to put an arm around her in attempt to offer some warmth. Reina shrank back and side-stepped him. He immediately backed off.

"What? You mad at me?"

"How can I be mad at someone I don't even remember knowing…?" she asked softly and crossed her arms over the balcony. She then rested her chin softly atop of her crossed arms so. Her eyes stared out to the endless stretch of dark water before them.

Spot stepped up beside her. He wanted to say something but he had no idea what the appropriate words would be at that moment. Finally, he settled on, "It's pretty cold up here."

"You don't need to stay up here," she said softly in response and Spot narrowed his eyes. He hated talking to people who refused to be talked to and had Reina been anyone else, he probably wouldn't be trying so hard. "I'm fine," he answered in an edgy tone.

"You know, it just," she spoke quietly, trailing off and Spot swore he heard tears in her voice. This was odd because during her time with him in Brooklyn, Reina had gone through some pretty bad stuff. On many occasions, he'd expected her to cry and she never did.

"Don't cry," he spoke out loud and that caused her to look over to him. "I'm _not_ crying!" she shot back and now turned to fully face him, "But do you know what it's like, not having any memories to fall back on!?"

Spot listened, his expression remained unchanged.

"Every day it seems like something new is thrown at me and it just completely messes up what I think I know! Just when I think I have things figured out, I remember something, a memory, or something happens like today which makes me feel like I'm back at square one! It's like trying to walk on solid ground and always taking that _one_ step that causes the ground to give way!" she said, talking so loudly that she almost sounded delirious. Spot kept silent but continued to keep his eye on her.

"I just," she hesitated to find the right words, "I just want to hold onto _ONE_ memory that isn't questioned or contradicted by another. I just want something stable I can stand on," she confessed and shook her head as if the idea was stupid.

"Drunk," Spot responded, licking his chapped lips and looked away from her and back out to sea.

"What?!" she demanded as if she could not believe the words out of his mouth.

"Drunk. You're a damn silly drunk. You got no dignity at all when you're drinkin' and you giggle – a lot," Spot said matter-of-factly.

There was a brief silence as Reina stared at him as though he were crazy then finally she turned away and he heard he laugh just ever so slightly. He wasn't sure if he had really heard it or not. He struggled to get a better look at her face and saw that indeed, she was smiling just a little. It was tired, broken smile but it was there.

Spot smiled slightly himself and looked back over to her but found that he still had no words. After a moment their smiles faded.

"How do I know you…Spot?" she asked softly.

"It's a long story Kitty," Spot said and then realized that he had called her by her old nickname he had made her. He looked over to see her reaction. She repeated the name and looked incredibly sad as she did. "Kid called me that."

Spot pursed his lips at that and felt the familiar feeling of regret wash over him again at the mention of Kid.

"You use to call me that?" she asked.

Spot gave a very short nod. "Yeah I did but I use to say it to make you mad. It really used to frost ya," Spot confessed and Reina looked confused.

"Why would you _want_ to make me mad on purpose?" she asked curiously.

Spot sighed and thought about how he'd approach this. The whole conversation was beginning to feel like a mine field. He could either dodge the hard to answer questions or he could throw himself into the fire.

"You and I-"

"Were we even friends?" Reina asked, cutting him off. Spot took a moment to consider this before he answered. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You come down to the lower deck where it isn't so damn cold and I'll tell you what you want to know. Deal?"

Reina gave a brief nod and headed to the stairs with Spot following close behind.

They talked for an hour or so with Spot filling Reina in on her missing past. He had left out nothing, including his botched attempt to rid himself of her and how she had fallen into Edward Vanderbelt's hands. Reina had sat beside him, mostly in silence, taking everything in. Only occasionally did she ask questions. After he had finished, Spot leaned back on the ferry bench and looked up to the ceiling. "And that's about it. I don't know what happened to you after the fire. Do you remember?"

"No," she responded honestly said softly. "I just remember always living with Kid and Reaper in Staten. I didn't talk a lot to the other guys, mostly just Kid."

"Reaper? Who's he?" Spot asked, struggling to remember if he had met him back when Brooklyn was attacked.

"He's kind of their leader over there, like you were over Brooklyn. He's really weird though. He doesn't speak a lot and when he does he says the strangest things. He's really…dark," she said, speaking slowly. "He always made me nervous and I think he had some sort of grasp on Kid. A couple of times I'd catch Kid always looking so sad or upset after talking with him. It always made me sad," she said, reminiscing and Spot fought the urge to make a face. He briefly wondered how he'd feel if Reina had been talking about him like that. "Wouldn't happen because I don't need anyone feelin' sad for me," he thought quickly. Spot hated pity.

"That's why we were at that tavern," Reina continued. "I wanted to take Kid out and get his mind off things. I don't really know guys that well but I figured a few drinks might help," she confessed and Spot noticed she looked sort of embarrassed. Spot chuckled and nodded his head to her, "Seems you got guys figured out just fine." At that she gave a little half smile.

"Yeah well, I learned from the best," she said and immediately she looked shocked that she'd said that.

"Can you remember?" Spot asked immediately and Reina looked at him with her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed. "I'm not sure. I remember _some_ things. I remember playing poker with Kid and," she hesitated and looked around. "Race!" she said and her eyes searched the ferry until she found the guy she was searching for.

"Huh?!" Race asked and looked over. His arm was currently draped around a young lady with soft blonde curls and a nice, warm coat snuggled around her. She looked over at Reina then back to Race and raised an eyebrow as if to question him on just why this girl was calling his name. Race just grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "She's uh," he hesitated and thought quickly, "My sister!" he added quickly.

"She doesn't look like you," the girl observed and Race rubbed the back of his neck nervously with a slight chuckle. "Yeah, she's twice removed. Kind of the black sheep of the family," he said and shot Reina and Spot a wide-eyed look that seemed to beg them to go along with it.

Reina felt horribly confused but just nodded in unison with Spot.

The girl shrugged and seemed to accept this and went back to canoodling Race.

Reina heaved a heavy sigh and tilted her head. Spot observed that she looked tired. He glanced back towards the ocean and could now see the soft lights of Manhattan approaching on the horizon. "Almost there," he muttered.

"I got one last question Spot," Reina said and Spot listened and waited.

"What did Kid mean back in the alley when he said you took me away from him?"

Spot's eyes widened momentarily and he coughed to clear his throat. He had told her everything except the one kiss and how close they had grown in the last few months at Brooklyn. He hadn't been sure of how to explain that to her so he'd just left it out.

"Well, we were," he struggled with his words, "You know, we just became close friends. I think Kid had it all backwards. He thought there was something going on with us, with…me and you."

"And?" she pushed. "Was there?"

Spot took notice of how intently she was now leaning in and staring at him and it made him uncomfortable.

"_We all gotta make choices_," Jack's voice repeated in his head.

"No, no there wasn't," he lied and he immediately found that another stab of regret had hit him.

"This is for the best," he thought. If there was any way to bring Kid around, he was going to have to make a sacrifice and give up something he wanted the most. His eyes looked back up into Reina's.

"Oh," she said and she seemed a little let down by the answer.

"Does that bother you?" he pushed, unable to resist asking.

"No!" she held up her hands and chuckled nervously. "No, no I mean nothing against you but it would have made things more complicated, right?" she asked with a sweet smile. Spot nodded in agreement and hid his disappointment from her with a convincing mask of agreement. "Yeah, yeah it would have," he confirmed and that was that. That was how it'd be from now on. He'd find a way to restore his position in Brooklyn and if he couldn't restore his friendship with Kid, at the very least he'd be able to give him what he wanted the most as a peace offering. This was how it had to be.

"_And most of the time, they're choices that you're always going to look back on and wonder about_," Spot recalled Jack's words and accepted them.

"So be it," he thought.


End file.
